Pages

Friday, May 17, 2013

D Blog Week - At least it's not...

At least it's not....

I loathe that saying when it comes to Grace. At least it's not cancer. No shit it's not cancer. Why would you even say that to me? Cause cancer, whoa, that would be BAD and what you have, Penny, is not so bad at all. Always could be worse. Well, sure, I could get struck by lightning and hit by a car right now, that would be worse. But here I am, standing and talking to someone who mentions that it could be cancer. What the hell?!

At least it's not autism again.

That's what I think. And I don't say that because I think autism is such a BAD thing. I don't. It is what it is. My oldest daughter, who is 16 now, has autism. And it rocked our world. I just don't think I could do another child with autism. Yes, I know what you are saying and thinking, sure you could Penny. And yes, if I was given another child with autism, I WOULD do it again, sure enough. I would find it within me to pull myself up and get on with it, knowing what I had to do.

Still, at least it's not autism again.

I thought about this when someone said that autism and diabetes were so similar. Hmmm. Not so much at all. With autism, I could take a day off. I could stop going to therapies for a day, a week, and she would STILL have autism. In fact, I remember when she was young and I had enough, I cancelled all her therapies for the day, got myself a People magazine, turned on 'Barney' for her and sat on the couch the entire day. Sure enough, she still had autism the next day.

I can't do that with diabetes.

It's on 24/7/365 in a much different way than autism. It requires so much intensive calculations and measurement and learning. In a more methodical way. It rocked my world, but the bost just swayed. It didn't tip over, throw us all off, require us to swim to shore and look for the friggin boat. Autism did that. That was a ride, my friends.

I don't want it misinterpreted that I think autism sucks. It's actually just another reality for my daughter and us. We are a happy family. She is a happy child. She is the love of our lives, along with our other children. To me, she is perfect, and she has autism.

So, while I wouldn't want to switch chronic diseases with anyone, or trade places from my beautiful one to someone else's, I thank whoever is in charge of this whole thing, that it's not autism again, but diabetes.

4 comments:

As my post is entitled today… better the devil you know, and yet, now that my daughter has diabetes, (and I have another son with life threatening food allergies) I am in terror that my first born NOT get diabetes too. He is possibly on the autistic spectrum, though never diagnosed. We home school, he is doing well and is happy. I don't feel the need to get services at this point. But, he is so resistant to change. He is so disrupted by changes to routine. If the diabetes had gotten him, (or if it does in the future) we will be turned inside out. Our daughter, bless her heart, is low maintenance. She is the third. She has been dragged along to her brothers activities. I was lazy about potty training her. She rolls with it. She takes whatever we dish out. So sometimes I think the unthinkable thought, "thank goodness it was her, and not my oldest. It would be so much harder on him." And I want to snatch the thought back for the injustice of it. In the end though, we all deal with the hand we are dealt, and maybe all these thoughts are really just rationalization, and defense mechanisms. We are programmed to think our lot in life is preferable to anything else, no matter how bad it is, it is the devil we know. And it is what it is.

My four year old was just diagnosed with T1D on top of her autism Dx. In my case it was the other way around I could roll with the autism. No big deal. But diabetes!!! This rocked my world. This scares me.

how you climb up the mountain is just as important as how you get down the mountain. and, so it is with life, which for many of us becomes one big gigantic test followed by one big gigantic lesson. in the end, it all comes down to one word. grace. it’s how you accept winning and losing, good luck and bad luck, the darkness and the light.